


Role Models - Deleted Scene - Flu

by MisconductandMimosas



Series: Role Models [6]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisconductandMimosas/pseuds/MisconductandMimosas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the guy’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Kent Parson?”</p>
<p>“That’s my name,” Kent said tightly, trying to relax himself. He and Jack had a plan. Jack had only been in the NHL for four months. Upper management, PR- they were the only ones that knew about their relationship. No one on the team knew yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Role Models - Deleted Scene - Flu

“Babe? You up?”

 

Jack was up but he wasn’t moving that well. He also wasn’t sure if he had really heard Kent come through the front door of his apartment. He murmured something incoherent into the pillow. 

 

“Aw, Zimms.” Kent’s voice was low, just like Jack’s went whenever Kent’s head issues made themselves known. Jack moved his head so his face wasn’t smushed against his pillow.

 

“Stay tonight?” He asked. Jack knew he sounded a little pathetic but he didn’t care. The Falconers had gone down 3-2 in OT against the Bruins without him the night before and his flu symptoms showed no signs of faded. 

 

“You know the rules. If I stay, Kit stays,” Kent reminded him, petting Jack’s sweaty bangs off of his forehead. 

 

“Kit can stay too,” Jack murmured. 

 

Kent stood up. _When had he even knelt down besides the couch_ , Jack wondered. “Soup smells good.” He nodded, approving of his own cooking skills. 

 

“It tastes great,” Jack told him. Not that he could remember how it tasted but he definitely had some of it at some point. He was sure it was delicious. 

 

“I’m going to get you some proper food, okay, Zimms? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

 

Jack hummed and pushed his face back until the pillow. 

 

His kitchen was sparse. Not enough that anyone would suspect anything but to Kent, it was pretty clearly that Jack spent most of his meals at Kent’s table, with Kit winding herself around his legs.

 

He had just gotten the apron out when he heard the front door to the apartment open. Kent froze- hands still on the apron. His eyes went to it and he inwardly groaned, thinking back to that dumb comment he had made about Jack having a househusband. Granted, he came home in between meetings to check up on Jack but still- he couldn’t deny the irony.

 

Before thinking about it, he walked back out into the front room, leaving the apron thrown over the one of the counter barstools. 

 

There were two teammates with Jack. Kent recognized them but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember their names. He was too caught up in what Jack was going to say. Jack caught his eye as he leaned against the doorway from the kitchen to the front room.  “Guys, this is Kent. Kent, this is-“

 

One of the guy’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Kent Parson?”

 

“That’s my name,” Kent said tightly, trying to relax himself. He and Jack had a plan. Jack had only been in the NHL for four months. Upper management, PR- they were the only ones that knew about their relationship. No one on the team knew yet.

 

“Where have you been hiding, man! I thought you disappeared for good.” The other teammate got up from the couch to shake his hand. Kent shook it, trying to keep his heart from racing. 

 

“Not for lack of trying,” he said lightly. The oven beeped - signaling it had reached its chosen temperature - and Kent groaned. “Be right back.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack told him, too seriously to be a casual quip. Kent ignored Jack’s worried eyes for now and focused on the preheated oven. Shit, what had he wanted to put in there? _Chicken? Probably chicken._ _Protein for Jack. Jack is sick_ , he reminded himself. There was already soup in the extra crockpot that he had bought just for Jack’s place.. 

 

“Dude! You know Kent Parson!” He heard from the other room. Hockey players were not great at whispering.

 

“Yeah, man. I’ve known him since I was sixteen.” Kent knew that Jack was playing dumb but it didn’t sound like too much playing. He wondered what was in that flu medication.

 

“Kenny,” Jack whispered. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Or- more accurately - he was leaning against the wall

 

“Are you ready for this?” Kent asked him seriously. There was no way Jack’s teammates weren’t going to have more questions.

 

“Are you?” That was a fair question. Kent knew his face was probably far too pale for a warm kitchen.

 

“I’ve been ready since we were sixteen,” Kent told him in all seriousness. He wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. It didn’t feel like lying. Regardless, Jack didn’t call him on it. He just gave a shy smile and looked at his feet. 

 

“You should kiss me before you leave,” Jack said suddenly. His head snapped back up and the smile grew. 

 

“What?” Kent hissed. Jack didn’t _seem_ high on flu medication but-. 

 

“Please. Just. Please. We’re not doing it this way, remember?” Jack implored him. They weren’t going to hide. If it came out, it was out- that’s what they had agreed on. That was their plan B when plan A didn’t work. 

 

“I remember,” Kent said softly. 

 

“Kiss me goodbye before you leave, Kenny,” Jack said, with that dumb Zimmermann smile on his face.

 

“Not like it’s a hardship to kiss you or anything,” Kent teased and proved his point right there in the kitchen by kissing Jack immediately. “Go back out on the couch. I’m going to put chicken in the oven.”

 

——————

 

“Okay, the chicken will be done in a few minutes. I’ve got a 1:30 meeting that’s going to take the rest of my afternoon.” Kent sped out of the kitchen, grabbing his messenger bag from the back of the empty recliner. 

 

“Then you’re helping out Holster with some stick-handling,” Jack reminded him. 

 

Kent rolled his eyes. “I remember.”

 

“Holster?” One of the Falconers asked. 

 

“Adam Birkholtz,” Jack told them. “Holster.”

 

The teammate who had recognized Kent perked up. “He’s the Samwell kid that the Bruins are looking at, right?”

 

“Among other teams,” Kent said absently, patting his pants. House key, wallet, phone- he had everything. “I won’t forget. Call me if you need anything though, okay?” Kent moved towards the front door but Jack’s voice stopped him. 

 

“Kenny?” He asked, his tone curious and almost hurt. He had gotten up off of the couch, blanket forgotten.

 

“You’re a menace, Zimms,” Kent murmured. He had well and truly almost forgotten. He took a few steps and tugged on Jack’s sleeve so his partner leaned down to his level. He cupped Jack’s cheek with one hand and finished pulling Jack closer to give him a soft kiss. Not quick, like they both usually did if they ever engaged in any PDA but it wasn’t intimate either. 

 

Kent moved his hand from Jack’s cheek up to his forehead. Jack frowned as Kent took advantage of their closeness to feel his temperature. “You still have a fever. Take some meds again in a half hour. Don’t forget.” He looked over at Jack’s teammates. 

 

The one put his hands up. “We got it covered, man. I swear. Half hour.”

 

A thought came to mind. “Should you guys even be here? Cause he definitely has the flu,” Kent said suspiciously.

 

“We got our flu shots!” The player closest to him swore. 

 

“You didn’t get a flu shot?” Kent accused Jack.

 

“I just assumed they gave it to me during one of my physicals?” Jack answered sheepishly. 

 

“You’re an idiot,” Kent said fondly, almost forgetting that two of Jack’s teammates were in the room. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

——————

 

“Sweet boyfriend,” one of the teammates said, after about the thirty seconds of silence since Kent shut the front door.

 

“Fiancé, technically, I guess.” Jack shrugged nonchalantly but he was smiling, looking at the door as though Kent was still there. 

 

“Shit, Zimmermann. When’s the wedding?”

 

“We agreed on five years or when we win the cup. Whatever comes first.” Jack felt weird saying it aloud. Kent had wanted Jack to establish himself whereas Jack wanted to get married soon. _Think of it as incentive,_ Kent had teased. 

 

The two teammates exchanged a look that Jack missed entirely. “Well, looks like we’ll need to keep those points up, eh?”


End file.
